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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138051">Normal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor'>Tantaylor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Duran Duran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Confusion, Dom/sub, M/M, Master/Slave, More tags to be added, normal - Freeform, not so normal, that tugging and pulling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:27:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe this is a story about Roger and how he finds out that he`s not as normal as he thought.<br/>But then, it`s also a story about Michael, who finds it perfectly normal to be a perfect slave.<br/>Or it`s a story about carpenters and metalworkers...<br/>Let yourself be surprised.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Normal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>English is not my mother-tongue, no beta.<br/>Please leave feedback</p><p>Thank you.</p><p> </p><p>Starts at RCM-era</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Do you know this?<br/>
A tugging in the heart, an unnameable yearning.<br/>
The knowledge that something important is missing in your life, a strange emptiness that drives you mad because you just don't know what it means.</p><p>I thought this longing was fulfilled when I finally admitted to myself that I was gay. But it didn't stop, this pulling and tugging. An irritating pressure on the chest.<br/>
Something was missing. But what?<br/>
I did everything humanly possible to fill that nagging, gnawing void, and for a few years I thought I had succeeded.<br/>
After John called and talked about a reunion and we put out the first record with the original line-up, the first tour, the exhilarating happiness of being behind the drums again. The relationship with Jordan.<br/>
What more could you want than to do what you loved and be with someone you loved?<br/>
With the end of the Astronaut Tour came the end of our love.<br/>
We had grown apart, our lives no longer seemed to fit together.<br/>
We parted in friendship.<br/>
But the pulling came back. The emptiness. The longing.<br/>
And still I didn't know what the hell it meant.<br/>
I started running, wanting to run away from the emptiness, so to speak.<br/>
Endorphins and exhaustion helped for a while.<br/>
However, I overdid it a bit and collapsed after a marathon just before the finish.<br/>
My band mates were very worried about me, everyone except Nick.<br/>
Nick was furious. He was still ranting loudly when the paramedics took me to the ambulance.</p><p>I had never seen Nick so angry, and I think that's when I started to feel uncomfortable around him.</p><p>Nick.<br/>
He was so incredibly present, his aura frighteningly intense.<br/>
There was something about him that made me deeply uneasy, made me nervous like a schoolboy being called to the headmaster's office.<br/>
Then, exactly five years ago, my life changed dramatically.</p><p> </p><p>We had all met at Nick`s  place to celebrate the completion of Red carpet Massacre.</p><p>After John left, the champagne flowed.<br/>
I was not drunk, but quite tipsy. So it took me a while, after Nick had called a taxi for the completely drunk Charlie, to realise that we were alone.<br/>
For the first time since he had yelled at me like mad at the end of the marathon.</p><p>I started collecting the glasses from the table to keep myself busy. Nick's intense gaze seemed to burn a hole in my back.<br/>
"What are you doing, Roger?" he asked, his voice unusually soft.<br/>
"I'm helping you clean up."<br/>
"You don't have to do that."<br/>
"I want to."<br/>
That was true. I wasn't just doing it because I was nervous. I liked tidiness, and I didn't like to bother people. I was partly responsible for the mess, so I helped.<br/>
Nick was still looking at me. He made no move to get up and put anything away himself. Instead, he sat back and lit a cigarette. Even through the smoke I felt his gaze on me.<br/>
It was unnerving.<br/>
I left the living room practically fleeing Why my heart was suddenly beating wildly and my hands were trembling, I didn`t  know. I almost dropped the tray with the glasses.<br/>
Maybe I just had too much champagne after all.<br/>
At least that's what I told myself while I was standing in the kitchen staring at the dirty glasses.<br/>
“Roger.” What had happened to his voice? Why did it feel like a gentle caress?<br/>
I didn't dare turn around. I didn't dare meet that intense gaze. What was wrong with me?<br/>
“Roger,” he repeated. “We have to talk.”<br/>
“I should go. It's late.” My own voice sounded so strange to my ears.<br/>
“You will not go.”<br/>
“I won't?”<br/>
“I've been watching you for a long time, Roger Taylor. You are a very fascinating person. Full of contradictions. Restless. You seem to be searching for something."</p><p>His words flowed down my spine like warm honey, which astonished me as much as the truth they spoke. About me being restless and searching for something that was.<br/>
There was a stain on the worktop next to the tray and I automatically reached for a cloth.<br/>
"Put that down, Roger. You don't have to clean here.”</p><p>Why was I still standing there like a moronic idiot staring at champagne glasses?<br/>
Why was Nick's presence so utterly disturbing?<br/>
Just because he had yelled at me some time ago? That was really silly!<br/>
I had known this man since he was a sixteen-year-old teenager.<br/>
Maybe he was right. We should talk.<br/>
I took a deep breath and turned around.<br/>
Nick was leaning in the doorway. His eyes were outrageously green. As if he were wearing coloured contact lenses. A soft smile curled his lips. They were very beautiful lips.<br/>
“You don't like me very much, do you?” I didn't really want to say that, it just came out.<br/>
Nick's shapely brows lifted in surprise.<br/>
"That's funny, you know. I was about to ask you the same thing. You're clearly avoiding me and I'd like to know why.”<br/>
There was no point in disagreeing. He was right. Again.<br/>
“Why were you so angry with me, Nick? Back then, at the marathon. That was hurtful, you know. Really hurtful. I thought we were friends. You don't yell at friends. Especially when they're not doing well.” Now that I said it, it sounded kind of ridiculous. Childish.<br/>
But I couldn't tell him that it was his incredible intensity that disturbed me so much. It would have sounded even more ridiculous, wouldn't it? Besides, it was true. It had hurt me.</p><p>Nick closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply before his gaze hit me again with full force. More intense than before, which I would not have thought possible.</p><p>"You were like John. That made me angry. Because I like you a lot. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, Roger, but I like you a lot.”</p><p>I heard his words but I didn't really understand them. They didn't really make sense, did they?<br/>
I understood his next sentence even less.</p><p>"Oh please, let me be right, otherwise this will be a disaster." he said quietly to himself, and then, louder, directed at me:<br/>
"I'll make us some coffee. Go on into the living room, will you? It's time we got a few things straight. Which is a really stupid expression, considering we're both gay.”<br/>
My laugh sounded fake, which I'm sure he noticed. Part of me still wanted to run away and I had no idea why.<br/>
Now he was standing next to me. Because I was standing next to the coffee machine. He was very close. He hadn't been this close to me for a long time. Again he looked at me. Questioning and somehow knowing at the same time.</p><p>I decided to be honest, even though it might sound strange.</p><p>“You make me nervous. There's something about you that makes me feel insecure.”<br/>
"You make me insecure too, Roger. Because I don't usually shout at people. But when you collapsed... my God, I thought you were dead. And I was so helpless, and helplessness makes me angry. I wasn't angry at you, Roger. I was angry because I thought whatever you were running from had killed you. Hence my comparison with John. He also almost killed himself in search of the ultimate high. I've read a lot about it, Roger. About runners. It's not just about sport, about staying fit, is it? Many report a kind of ecstasy, a kind of floating. Endorphins that are so powerful that you don't recognise your own limits, that you don't notice when your body can't take any more. That is fascinating. Endorphins are fascinating, aren't they? They are the body's own drugs that can make you fly if you use them properly. I have already said that I have been watching you for a long time. And I think I realised who you are years ago. What you are. What you're running from.”</p><p>“Then enlighten me with your boundless wisdom, Nick Rhodes. Because I have no idea. Amazingly, you are right. I'm searching for something. I'm restless. I thought it was the music I was missing. Maybe also the stage fright, the excitement. Love. Sex. And I had all that, still..."<br/>
“An emptiness, a vague longing. The feeling of not being complete. It drives you crazy, doesn't it?”</p><p>“How the fuck do you know?”<br/>
“Because I see who you are. And you recognise who I am, that's why I make you insecure. Of course, I could still be wrong, and that would be fatal. But if I`m right... Roger, please promise me something, will you? I'm going to tell you something very personal about me, something that hardly anyone knows. And it might scare you because you don't know yourself yet. Just promise me you won't run away. Promise me to think seriously about what I'm about to tell you. And if, contrary to expectations, I'm totally wrong, then we'll open another bottle of champagne and try to become the friends we used to be, ok? I kind of ran away too, you know? From you. From what you make me feel. I could deny it as long as Eric was here. And I could ignore it as long as we were busy with the album, but now... The truth is, Roger Taylor, I am extraordinarily attracted to you."<br/>
I was speechless. Most of what Nick had just told me sounded like some cryptic esoteric stuff, but that he was attracted to me caught me completely off guard.<br/>
With full force. Right in the stomach.<br/>
Because it made me realise without a doubt and in all clarity that I felt the same way.<br/>
This inexplicable longing, this tugging at the heart, seemed to grow immeasurably. I could hardly breathe. It was as if something  unimaginably enormous was trying to get out of me, like a desperate, trapped animal.<br/>
It scared me. The power, the magnitude of that feeling scared me. Whatever was trying to break out of me was huge. And unknown. Yes, damn it, it scared the shit out of me.<br/>
I knew it would change my life. And I wasn't sure if I was up to it.<br/>
What was I so afraid of?<br/>
Certainly not of Nick, Nick with his honey voice and his beautiful lips and his very green eyes.<br/>
Who seemed to know more about me than I did. </p><p>"Breathe, Roger."<br/>
A warm, dainty hand came to rest on my chest. Heat spread inside me.<br/>
I drew a shaky breath; did as Nick had said.<br/>
“Very good, Again. Take a deep breath.”<br/>
His honeyed voice caressed me; the warmth of his hand was soothing. It was as if he was holding me, although his palm was only flat on my chest.<br/>
“There is something inside me that scares me.” I said and I didn't give a shit if it sounded stupid.<br/>
It was just the truth.</p><p>“I know, Roger, I know.”</p><p>“You can't know that, Nick. I don't know what it is myself.”<br/>
“I know because I recognise people like you. I have a radar for it. I don't usually need it, because the places where I've met your kind so far haven't left much room for doubt. That's why I was pretty blown away when I got such signals from you.”</p><p>“Signals? And what does that even mean, people like me? I don't understand a word, Nick.”</p><p>"Go into the living room. Make yourself comfortable. Smoke a cigarette. I'll make us some coffee."</p><p>His face was very close to mine, and for a split second I was sure he was going to kiss me.<br/>
Then he turned abruptly.<br/>
"Go into the living room, Roger."<br/>
I did as instructed.<br/>
It seemed to take half an eternity before Nick came into the room with the coffee cups.<br/>
"Black with a little sugar, right?"</p><p>I nodded. Was disappointed when he sat down opposite me in the armchair instead of next to me on the couch.<br/>
He smiled.<br/>
"I need a little space for what I have to say. I certainly don't want you to feel pressured by me."</p><p>“Stop fucking talking so convoluted! Just talk straight for once!”</p><p>"If that's what you want, okay. You, Roger Taylor, are the most submissive person I have ever met. And believe me, I've met a lot of subs in my life.”<br/>
“What? “<br/>
I couldn't possibly have understood that correctly. It was ridiculous.<br/>
“Stand up, please. Thank you. Now put your arms behind your back and hold your right wrist with your left hand.”</p><p>I stood there and didn't understand what this nonsense was all about. Nick smiled.<br/>
Then it dawned on me.<br/>
He had ordered, I had obeyed. Without hesitation. And I had been doing that all evening. </p><p>“Since you are so desperate for endorphins, I also suspect that you are at least a little masochistic. It hurts to run a marathon, doesn't it? The muscles hurt, you have blisters on your feet, and you're actually too exhausted to keep running. But the endorphins, Roger. That high. Like flying. I can make you fly. As high as you've ever flown. And I can guarantee you won't end up in the hospital. Because I'm gonna take care of you, Roger. It's okay to want to push your limits, it's okay to want to reach your goal. But it's definitely not okay to fuck up your fantastic body, you hear me? I can give you what you're so desperate for. More importantly, I want it. Because you know what? I've been looking just as desperately as you have. I thought it was Eric. But all this time it was you. You are perfect. You just have to let it happen, Roger.”<br/>
Nick Rhodes definitely didn't have all his cups in the cupboard.<br/>
Nick Rhodes was a fucking know-it-all who spouted unbelievable bullshit.<br/>
Nevertheless, I still stood there with my arms behind my back, holding my right wrist with my left hand. I let go as if I had burnt myself on my own skin.</p><p> </p><p>“You have at least one screw loose, Nicholas. Honestly, man, you're crazy! “</p><p>And then I ran out into the London rain.<br/>
It took me three blocks to realise I wasn't wearing shoes and another one to notice how fucking cold it was.<br/>
My jacket was hanging in Nick's hallway. Underneath were my shoes. In the pocket of my jacket were my keys and my wallet. And I was an idiot.<br/>
I sat down on the pavement, hugged my knees and started crying like a baby.<br/>
No way was Nick right. No. He was just crazy. Totally crazy.<br/>
And beautiful.<br/>
A gifted musician, a control freak.<br/>
Tough, but fair.<br/>
My teeth were already chattering with cold when I finally realised what else Nick was.<br/>
A dominant man. A dominant gay man.<br/>
With a voice like honey that even now I thought I could hear.</p><p>"For God's sake, you stubborn bastard, do you really have such pronounced suicidal tendencies? Get your ass in here, damn it."<br/>
It was like Deja vu. Nick was standing there yelling at me. Yet he still sounded like warm, liquid honey. Behind him on the street was a taxi. He held out his hand and I took it, still sobbing.<br/>
He couldn't be right. No. I wasn't submissive and I certainly wasn't into pain. That was sick.<br/>
And I was quite normal, wasn't I?<br/>
So damn normal that it almost bordered on boring.<br/>
Just a normal man who wanted normal things. </p><p>But why did I let Nick push me into the waiting taxi without resistance? Why did I cling to him like a drowning man and why the hell couldn't I stop crying?<br/>
He held me close, stroked me and whispered soothing words to me.<br/>
The drive back to his flat took only a few minutes. I was still crying.<br/>
I felt strangely numb, as if I were dreaming. As if none of this was really happening.<br/>
"You're wrong. You're crazy and you're wrong." I sobbed while Nick took off my wet clothes.<br/>
I didn't care that I was standing stark naked in front of him.<br/>
"On a scale of one to ten, how crazy do you think it is to run out in the rain at minus two degrees without shoes and a jacket, you weirdo?” He wrapped me in a blanket, pushed me down on the sofa and got me a whisky.<br/>
“Sit here. I'll run you a bath. You're freezing.”<br/>
“I am not a weirdo!” I yelled after him. “You are!”<br/>
I don't remember the bath, or how Nick put me to bed. In the guest room.<br/>
But I do remember the feeling I had when I woke up the next morning. The feeling of having this frightening abnormal thing in me buried deep and safe. </p><p> </p><p> And even more so  do I remember how surprised I was when I walked into the kitchen and saw Eric, Nick's ex-boyfriend, sitting at the table. Slave. Sub. Or whatever they called it in his world. His world. The world that wasn`t my world.<br/>
"Good morning, Roger. Coffee?"<br/>
I nodded, perplexed.<br/>
I watched Eric pour me coffee and load a plate with scrambled eggs.<br/>
Apart from the fact that it was more than strange that he was here, he was behaving normally. He looked normal too. In fact, he had always looked normal. At least on the few occasions we had met.<br/>
Open-minded. Cheerful. Normal, that is.<br/>
I sighed.<br/>
"Listen, Eric, if that crazy control freak sent you to keep convincing me I'm a pain-craving sex slave or something....”<br/>
Eric laughed. His laugh was beautiful and as infectious as Nick's, so we sat in the kitchen and laughed together.<br/>
Well, that was really a bit crazy, wasn't it?<br/>
Finally, Eric dabbed his eyes dry and looked at me seriously.<br/>
"Well, are you? "<br/>
"Am I what?"<br/>
"A pain-craving sex slave."<br/>
"Definitely not. I am totally normal.”<br/>
“So that makes me totally unnormal, huh?” he shrugged.<br/>
“I didn't mean it like that.” I said quickly.<br/>
“But it sounded quite like that,” he grinned. At least he did not give the impression of being offended.<br/>
“I am sorry.”<br/>
I stuffed a fork full of scrambled eggs into my mouth. Otherwise I would probably have said more stupid things.<br/>
Eric watched me eat in silence for a while.<br/>
His presence began to irritate me as much as Nick's.<br/>
I put the cutlery aside.<br/>
"Why are you here?"<br/>
"I brought Nick something he ordered weeks ago. I'm a carpenter, you know. And then he had to leave because someone from the studio called and he asked me to stay so you wouldn't be alone when you woke up."<br/>
“It's not the first time I've been here and I would certainly have found my way to the door on my own.”<br/>
“He doesn't want you to leave. He said he wouldn't be gone long and you still had something to discuss.”<br/>
"I go when I want. And I certainly have nothing more to discuss with Nick. He sees something in me that isn't there. He's imagining things."</p><p>"That makes two of us. Because I see it too."</p><p>“Then you're both crazy.”<br/>
“Listen, Roger, I understand that you are confused and scared. I was too. It's not easy to accept yourself as you are."</p><p>“I'm not like you, Eric.”<br/>
This whole thing was starting to piss me off.<br/>
Who did these two think they were? Why did they think I was someone from their perverted circle?<br/>
“I would like to show you something. Nick probably wouldn't agree, but so what? After all, I don't have to ask him for permission anymore.” Eric smiled.<br/>
“What do you want to show me?”<br/>
“The furniture I make.”<br/>
Furniture. Ok. Furniture was something normal. Something nice. Especially if they were handmade. Made of wood. From a carpenter.<br/>
So I unsuspectingly followed Eric into Nick's bedroom and only when I was standing inside did I realise that this room had always been locked. We had already had lots of parties here, met to make music or just to talk. I must have been in this flat a hundred times, but never, not ever, had I been in Nick's bedroom. And it only took me about three seconds to understand why Nick always locked this room when he had visitors. Normal visitors. </p><p>The room was huge. In the middle of it stood a bed made of dark solid wood. It had posts and a fabric roof, like a romantic four-poster bed.<br/>
However, there were metal rings everywhere, in the bed frame and in the posts. So much for romantic.<br/>
A  large St Andrew's cross on one wall. A carved armchair that looked like a throne.<br/>
A pillory.<br/>
No joke.<br/>
A fucking pillory.<br/>
There were a few other pieces of furniture whose purpose was beyond me.<br/>
“What is this for?” I asked, pointing at a metal frame on the floor.<br/>
“The metal version of a pillory, a so-called floor pillory.”<br/>
A floor pillory. Yeah, sure, what else. Everyone should have one. Very stylish.<br/>
I should have turned around and left. After all, I wasn't interested in torture chambers, was I?<br/>
But I couldn't. </p><p>There was something fascinating about this room.<br/>
I had never seen anything like it, and I was curious. That was all. Curiosity.<br/>
And Eric wouldn't grab me and tie me to a bedpost or anything. Eric was harmless. A sub.</p><p>I was still staring at the floor pillory. The thing looked scary. The fact that most of the furniture in here was made of wood gave the room something incongruously warm and friendly. But this thing really looked like something out of a medieval torture chamber.<br/>
“How do you use it?”<br/>
“You go on all fours and then…”<br/>
Eric opened a few hinges and I understood.<br/>
The metal rings were opened, as Eric had just demonstrated. For wrists and ankles. Then came the head. And then you were trapped. Helpless, almost unable to move, you couldn't escape. You couldn't run away. You were forced to feel what you didn't want to feel for the life of you. Because you were normal. Because it was impossible to really want something like that. To be tied up, to be at the mercy of someone. </p><p> </p><p>Someone with a whip in their hand, or a cane or some other tool whose name I didn't know, and it didn't really matter, because I wouldn't be able to change the fact that they were beating me with it anyway. </p><p>My heart began to beat wildly. I felt dizzy.<br/>
Oh, God.<br/>
No.<br/>
No. No no no!<br/>
"You feel it, don't you? " Eric asked softly. "Let it happen. "<br/>
That little bastard! He had lured me here. He had me fully trapped! </p><p>But then, he hadn't done anything. He just showed me this room. Because he saw things in me. Just like Nick.<br/>
Things!</p><p>"I don't want this. Eric. I don't want this!"</p><p>But it was too late. The beast had been released, this little monster that had eaten a hole of longing into my chest.<br/>
It stood there and stuck its tongue out at me.<br/>
“Oh, God.”  A dry sob escaped my throat.</p><p>My knees went weak and I had to sit down. On one of those pieces of furniture on which people were probably usually whipped.<br/>
Nick.<br/>
Nick whipped people here.<br/>
People like Eric.<br/>
And me.</p><p>As if my thoughts had summoned him, his voice rang out, his fucking warm honey voice.<br/>
"Eric, would you please leave us alone?"<br/>
"I don't think it would be such a good idea. Not in here, Nick. Go somewhere neutral."</p><p>"It's okay, Eric.” I whispered. That was Nick, damn it. I knew Nick almost all my life. And even though he confused me to the core, he wasn't a psychopath. He wouldn't jump me.<br/>
“All right. I'll be going now.” We both watched him leave the room. He really looked quite normal. </p><p>“I'm scared shitless,” I said quietly<br/>
“I understand that. It is normal to be scared at first.”<br/>
“Normal. This word haunts me today. Were there many men in here?”<br/>
“Just Eric. And that was a while ago.”<br/>
“You are still friends.”<br/>
“That we are. And we work much better as friends than as Dom and sub.”<br/>
“Why is that?”<br/>
I knew I was distracting; it was much easier to talk about Eric than about me. I needed time; I wasn't ready yet.<br/>
"What do you know about SM?"<br/>
“Nothing. Well, not much. What you read and hear.”<br/>
“But you know the terms?”<br/>
“I think so.”<br/>
“Ok. If you don't understand something, ask. Eric and I were in a 24/7 relationship. Do you have any idea what that means?”<br/>
“That you didn't just set the tone in here?”<br/>
“That's one way of putting it. He was a full-time sub, I was a full-time Dom. It was what we both wanted. And in the same way, we both found that it was too exhausting for us. You have to invest a lot of time, on both sides. And with his carpentry and the band, we just didn't have that time. We tried for a long time to find a way, tried to bring the whole thing down to this," he made a vague gesture to the room. "To go back to the word normal, we tried to be a normal couple, except in here. We found that wasn't enough for us. He has a new Dom. A metalworker. Who, by the way, built that thing you seem so incredibly fascinated by. The two have merged, so to speak, and concentrated on the production of SM furniture. It seems to be a gap in the market, they can hardly keep up with the work.”<br/>
I gasped in surprise when Nick suddenly grabbed me hard on the chin and forced me to look at him.<br/>
"You're not really listening to me, are you? You seem to really like Amos` little artwork."<br/>
“I'm listening to you, and yes, I like it. It's scary, but...” I understood two things at that moment. I liked to be touched hard and this kind of coercion helped me to say things I would otherwise not dare to say. As if I couldn't help but tell the truth, even if this truth frightened me.<br/>
I had just learned something very important about myself.<br/>
And so had Nick.<br/>
He still held my chin and looked at me inquiringly.<br/>
"Interesting." he said with a small smile.<br/>
"Indeed. A little creepy maybe, but...wow. I didn't want to say that, but I had to.” And I still did it. Told the truth, even though it unsettled me.<br/>
“That's good, Roger. I always need to know how you feel.”<br/>
“Confused. I feel confused.  Your voice sounds like liquid honey, you know that? Tender. Lovingly. But your grip is hard as steel.”<br/>
Nick laughed softly and let go of my chin, which I kind of regretted. Then he did something I hadn't expected at all. He kissed me. Very long and incredibly tender. I was pretty sure that no one had ever kissed me like that before.<br/>
I shivered a little as we pulled away from each other to catch our breath.<br/>
“I forgot to tell you something very important, Roger Taylor. I am terribly in love with you. Tenderness and hardness are not contradictory. It's all about the right mix. And we will find out how much of both we need."</p><p>Somewhere in the flat, a phone began to ring.<br/>
I was more confused than ever.<br/>
And outrageously happy.<br/>
It would have been terrible if being submissive meant having to do without kisses like these. </p><p>"Don't run away again or I'll have to tie you to the bed." Nick winked mischievously. "I should answer the phone."<br/>
He was not gone for long.<br/>
"That was Amos. Would you like to have dinner with them tonight?”<br/>
“Sure.”<br/>
People made out, went to friends' houses for dinner. Not being normal became more and more normal and as confused as I still was, the whole thing was becoming less and less scary.<br/>
We talked for hours before I finally got into the car and drove home to change for dinner. My lips were deliciously sore from Nick's kisses.<br/>
Talking and kissing, that was all we had done. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I stood in front of my wardrobe, a little at a loss. </p><p>What the hell did you wear when you were invited to dinner at perverts' houses?</p><p>Leather, perhaps?<br/>
Suddenly I panicked. God, what if this wasn't just a simple dinner? What if they wanted to play, as they called it? </p><p>Bullshit. Surely not. Nick wouldn't let that happen.<br/>
Would he?<br/>
I felt unspeakably stupid when I picked up the phone.<br/>
"I have two questions. What should I wear and isn't this a normal dinner?  And I'm sorry I said normal again.”<br/>
Nick's soft laughter relaxed me immediately.<br/>
" We haven't even started yet and you want me to decide what you are allowed to wear? You find your way into your role almost frighteningly quickly.”<br/>
“You don't want to play, do you?”<br/>
“To play? Roger, easy. We're having dinner at a friend's house. And you can wear whatever you want. As long as it's not one of those horrible cargo pants with five million pockets. If I could make a wish, though, I like those washed-out jeans with the holes. They accentuate your gorgeous ass.”</p><p>“Your wish is my command.”<br/>
“Ha! We'll see about that.”<br/>
Although we were only joking, I liked the idea of wearing something Nick liked. Or did I actually like being told what to wear?<br/>
It was confusing.<br/>
His compliment about my ass made me feel ten feet high. </p><p>Jordan had also made me compliments, but it hadn't felt like that.</p><p>I was in the best of moods when I hung up, Nick's honey voice still in my ear.</p><p>A giant. The man who opened the door for us was a giant.<br/>
A very friendly giant with bright blue eyes.<br/>
“Nicholas, my friend! And you must be Roger. Eric sends his apologies; he still has a piece of furniture to make. We have an exclusive contract with a new club. They want to open next month and we are a bit behind. Come in.”<br/>
The living room we were led into was a bizarre mix of English stuffiness and torture chamber. A naked man was kneeling in the middle of the carpet. A man who was clearly not Eric.<br/>
Great! I could at least have been warned.  So much for dinner with friends.<br/>
"You didn't say anything about Michael being here." The displeasure in Nick's voice calms me. So he didn't know about naked, kneeling men in the living room.</p><p>"Oh, I didn't? I'm sorry. I thought it was okay. You know Michael."<br/>
"Roger doesn't know Michael."<br/>
The giant was visibly confused.<br/>
"What did I miss, Nick? You haven't suddenly gone vanilla, have you?”<br/>
“He`s completely new to the subject, Amos. And I assured him that this was just a simple dinner with friends.”<br/>
The naked man, Michael, raised his head and looked at me. He smiled apologetically. I smiled back.<br/>
"Roger, is it?  I'm Michael. Amos, would you be so kind as to release me?"<br/>
It was only now that I noticed that his hands were tied behind his back.<br/>
After Amos had loosened the bonds, Michael stood up with incredible elegance and disappeared like lightning.<br/>
Amos shrugged his massive shoulders.<br/>
"I'm sorry. I always think with friends from the scene I don't have to ask if it's okay. I didn't consider that you don't know anything about the scene. Forgive me. If you'll excuse me? I have to go check on dinner.”<br/>
Nick chuckled.<br/>
“Well. So that was Michael. The third of the bunch.”<br/>
“I see. Just normal people.” For some reason I was not in the least astonished or even shocked. The sight of a naked man had been unexpected and had disturbed me because I thought that perhaps the same was expected of me. Kneeling naked on the carpet. However, the fact that Amos, Eric and Michael were apparently in a three-way relationship was perfectly OK with me. Maybe because I liked Michael right away.<br/>
Said Michael came in again, this time dressed and with a<br/>
tray in his hand.<br/>
Again, I was struck by his elegance. He was downright graceful. After he had put down the tray loaded with champagne glasses, he held out his hand to me.<br/>
"Let's start again from the beginning. I'm Michael and it's a pleasure to meet you, Roger. You won't believe this, but just yesterday Eric and I were watching MTV again and Rio was on. You probably get this a lot, but blue is your colour, man. Absolutely gorgeous. Although, these jeans are almost better. You have a really great ass."<br/>
"Michael, would you please stop hitting on my boyfriend?" laughed Nick. I was delighted.<br/>
It was incredible how much more intense everything seemed to feel, even Nick laughing and calling me his boyfriend.<br/>
It may sound strange, but I had never felt so loved.<br/>
"What? He's hot, your boyfriend. You're not going to deny that. You don't happen to switch, do you Roger?”<br/>
“Switch?”<br/>
"Can I steal Roger from you for a moment?" he asked, turning to Nick.  "Just for a cigarette length. Or two, maybe."<br/>
He barely waited for Nick's nod of approval before I was pulled into an adjoining room.<br/>
"Welcome to the Dom-free zone." Michael grinned. "This is our retreat, where Michael and Eric are just Michael and Eric. Listen, I'm sorry about earlier. I rarely wear clothes in this house and I like to show off. Neither I nor Amos realised that you really had no experience at all. It must all be very confusing for you.”<br/>
He lit two cigarettes for us and handed one to me.<br/>
"It's a bit much, yes," I admitted. "After all, it's only been a few hours since I realised that I...oh man, I can't even say it yet.”</p><p>“That's fine. You don't have to say it.  You know, I like you and if there's anything I can do to help you through this confusing time, let me know. Maybe we can be friends. A switcher, by the way, is someone who has both sides in him, someone who switches between dominance and submissiveness. And then there are a bewildering number of preferences and ways of living it. Don't let anyone tell you what is right or wrong. There is no wrong. It just has to be right for the two of you. And the other way around, if you are ever out and about in the scene, don't judge what others do. Because the same applies to them. And as for Nick, I congratulate you on your exceptionally good choice. He's a great guy.”<br/>
Madness. My ears started to glow just because he said Nick's name.<br/>
"That's so sweet!" Michael smiled.<br/>
“It's strange. I've known him for so long. How is that possible? How can I suddenly be head over heels in love?"</p><p>“Because for the first time you are really you.”</p><p>It was such a simple sentence. With such unbelievably great meaning.<br/>
It made me cry.</p><p> </p><p>I could not sleep. And I no longer understood the world.</p><p>After dinner with Amos, Michael and Eric, who had joined us in time for the main course, we had gone back to Nick's place. There Nick had said goodbye to me with a kiss and gone inside.<br/>
It felt like a slap in the face. A bucket of cold water over my head.<br/>
I was completely stunned.<br/>
And I didn't really understand why.</p><p>We had only been a couple for a few hours.<br/>
I had never jumped into bed with someone on the first night.</p><p>It was absolutely normal to say goodbye to each other with a kiss and go in while the other went home. </p><p>Still, it felt awful. </p><p>I didn`t want it to be normal.</p><p>At one in the morning I texted Nick.<br/>
*I can`t sleep*<br/>
It took not even a second for him to text back.<br/>
*Me neither*<br/>
*I miss you* I typed and then I wished I hadn't. I was a grown man, not a lovesick teenager. It was silly to write something like that after a few hours apart.<br/>
Nick seemed to think so too, because this time he didn't answer. </p><p>A few minutes later I smiled happily when my phone rang. It could only be him.<br/>
Hell, I really behaved like some love-sick teen.<br/>
“Roger, I`m so sorry!” he greeted me.<br/>
“What should you be sorry for?”<br/>
“I should not have left you alone after that day. That is irresponsible and I am sorry. I turned your whole world upside down and you shouldn't be alone with all the new knowledge. I miss you too, you know, I miss you very much. You could have slept in the guest room.”<br/>
"Guest room?"<br/>
Why the hell did I feel like I'd been punched in the face again?<br/>
"Roger...I know what it's like when you finally admit to yourself that you're not as normal as you thought. I know that you want to discover as much as possible as quickly as possible. Let me be honest, will you? I'm dominant and I'm a sadist, and I've been living this for many years, I've never been with someone for whom this is completely new. And I don't think I've ever wanted anyone as much as I want you. It's a very exhausting dilemma, Roger. We have to take it slowly, because I don't want to overwhelm you or scare you in any way. You have to trust me. Let me take the lead. Let me decide what happens and when. Can you do that? "<br/>
“Yes. I think so. There are a lot of things I need to learn, aren't there? “</p><p>“Indeed. Patience, for example. Michael and you became friends right away, didn't you?"</p><p>I understood that he wanted to change the subject and I let him. I let him take the lead.</p><p>We talked on the phone for a long time, talked about the last tour, the album, music, laughed about funny memories. We talked about everything except what was hidden under every word, under every laugh, sometimes more and sometimes less.<br/>
Nick was my Dom.<br/>
I was his sub.</p><p> </p><p>The very next day at noon, I was unexpectedly thrown into the middle of this new world, albeit in a completely different way than I had thought.</p><p>It began when Michael called and asked me for a favour.<br/>
"You're good at carrying heavy things, aren't you? And you have a driving licence. We have a problem here. Eric's grinder broke down and right after he and Amos went out to get a new one, this club owner called. They want to have some kind of pre-opening party tonight and asked if we could deliver some more of the furniture. I think that's a bit cheeky, because according to the contract we're not obliged to deliver for another two weeks, but it would certainly be good for business and they pay an extra bonus. Would you have time and, if Nick agrees, would you load up a few things with me and bring them to the club?"<br/>
I called Nick and asked if it was ok.<br/>
It didn't feel the least bit strange to ask him for permission. On the contrary. I might not know much about all this yet, but it seemed natural to me that anything even remotely related to SM would be decided by Nick.<br/>
And bringing funny furniture to an even funnier club clearly had something to do with SM.</p><p>A little later, Michael and I were hauling heavy furniture onto the back of a van.<br/>
Before we set off for the club, we had a cup of coffee in the kitchen.<br/>
"What is it like to be a famous star? "Michael wanted to know.<br/>
"I don't see myself that way. I'm a drummer and I do my job. Everything else is kind of part of it. I like touring and playing live, and it's exciting to make new songs, how one sequence becomes a whole song, how things evolve and sometimes  come out totally different than you thought."<br/>
"It sounds like a very profound metaphor for life," he mused. "If your life was a Duran song, which one would it be right now?"<br/>
“Hungry like the wolf.”<br/>
Michael chuckled.<br/>
“I bet my ass that hunger doesn't refer to eating.”</p><p>On the drive to the club, I told him how I had felt last night and what Nick had said on the phone. About taking things slowly.<br/>
I found it wonderful to be able to talk to someone about it.<br/>
“I know that sometimes it's really hard to let someone else take the lead. Especially when you think everything is going too slowly. But Nick is absolutely right. Things have to grow. Try not to push. Trust that Nick knows what he's doing.” Michael nodded.<br/>
“Is it still hard for you? To be led?”<br/>
“Sometimes. I am only human. With good days and bad days. And Amos is very demanding and consistent. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I love Amos more than anything, and since Eric is with us, everything is easier. I reached my limits and it drove me crazy that there were things I couldn't give Amos. You know,  I can't stand pain. And I really tried, for Amos. But, God, I hate it! If I even see a whip, I could run away screaming. Eric is quite different. He has a problem with rules and regulations, things I love.  Eric and pain though,  he's so beautiful when he flies. I cry sometimes when I watch it.”</p><p>A tight knot formed in my stomach; I felt a little sick.<br/>
Pain. So Eric loved pain.<br/>
And Eric was Nick's ex-boyfriend.<br/>
What if I was like Michael? What if I was afraid of the whip whose touch I longed for so much in my fantasies?<br/>
"Michael?"<br/>
"Yes?"<br/>
"I know I shouldn't ask this and you don't have to answer me, but... do you know what's more important to Nick?”<br/>
“You mean whether Nick is more dominant or more sadistic? Hey, don't stress. Don't panic. The big bad Doms can only do what you let them. And the sadism we are talking about here is not real sadism. If someone inflicts pain on you that you can't enjoy, then he has no place in the scene. Nick will research and test for a very long time and you will find your way. "</p><p>"But what if I can't give him what he wants? Just like you can't give Amos the pain. I don't want anyone third, I can't share him. Don't get me wrong, I think it's great that you don't have a problem with Amos bringing in a third party…”</p><p>“It was not Amos' idea. It was mine. Okay, Roger, now calm down. I`m gonna tell you our story. That is, I'd better start with mine. Let's stop here and walk a bit.”<br/>
What Michael then told me shook me to the core.</p><p>Little Michael had grown up with an alcoholic mother and an abusive father. At 12, he had run away from home and lived on the streets of London for many years. He could neither read nor write and sold himself to, as he said, fat stinking men who told their wives at home that they had to work longer hours.<br/>
One day, he was looking for something edible in the rubbish of a pub, when a giant with bright blue eyes got out of a van in front of that pub.<br/>
"Hey, kid, could you give me a hand? “</p><p>Together they had hung a heavy metal sign above the door. Amos noticed how thin the young man was and bought him something to eat. Michael offered him his sexual services in return.<br/>
Amos had declined with thanks and announced that he did not touch children. </p><p>Michael, the tough street kid, had come at him with his fists, furious that he was considered a child when he was almost 19.<br/>
His courage moved Amos.<br/>
He took him home with him.<br/>
Michael got his own room and Amos hired several private tutors. It turned out that Michael was very smart. He enjoyed learning, became an avid reader and started an apprenticeship as a metalworker with Amos.</p><p>Michael was terribly in love with his giant, but Amos made it clear from the beginning that nothing would happen between them.<br/>
Michael wasn't sure what to call their relationship.<br/>
They spent a lot of time together and Michael laughingly told me that it was totally strange how long it took him to realise that Amos was whipping men in the basement of his house.<br/>
One day, one of these men moved in with them.<br/>
Michael was furious with jealousy because he had never stopped loving Amos.<br/>
But he didn't let his feelings show.<br/>
Instead, he became a secret observer.<br/>
And he realised very quickly that this was the life he wanted to lead. Others might long to be famous actors or singers. Or heroic firefighters. Michael Tennant, however, wanted to be only one thing.<br/>
A slave.<br/>
At this point I had to swallow a bit.<br/>
For me, the fun-loving, courageous, strong Michael and the word slave went together as little as strawberries with mayonnaise.<br/>
Michael, who must have noticed my brief wince, laughed.<br/>
"Don't judge, Roger. Do you want to hear more or not?"<br/>
"I'm dying of curiosity, man!"<br/>
"All right, listen..."</p><p>Michael had left the house that had been his first real home, because he was aware that Amos didn't want him. Not like this.<br/>
Thanks to his intelligence and good, if late, education, he found a job in Wales. In his spare time he searched. He searched through magazines, visited every SM club he could find, inquired in every fetish shop if there was something like a training place where one could learn to become a perfect slave.<br/>
"You know, a lot of people think it's just about sex, but it's not. Not for me. Serving someone body and soul, that's what I wanted. Of course, I also found it incredibly arousing. And you won't believe it, I actually found myself an apprenticeship with Lord and Lady Ravenhurst. No shit, that's their real name. And they were great. I could've got my ass kicked with the whole thing, but I was lucky. The two of them were really old school, old English nobility. I was with them for four years. I learned a lot. Playing the piano. Ballroom dancing. How to open a zipper with my teeth."</p><p>Okay, I had to laugh. Michael knew exactly when to lighten up his story. And I understood what he was trying to explain to me. A slave in his sense was not someone who just knelt decoratively naked in the living room. He was a servant, a conversationalist, an entertainer. He fulfilled wishes, followed orders and tried to recognise the needs of his masters before they voiced them. And these needs were not only sexual. Lady Ravenhurst loved to dance, her husband not so much. So Michael learned to dance. Lord Ravenhurst loved to go golfing, his wife found it boring, so he learned to golf. He learned how to set a festive table, how to make polite conversation in high society, he learned to ride, could recite heaps of poetry and had a huge general knowledge.<br/>
But the most important thing, Michael said, was that he had learned to be patient. To put his own needs aside.<br/>
"It's much harder than you'd think. But it's easier when you're serving someone you love."</p><p>Of course, Michael also learned a lot about sex.<br/>
The Ravenhursts regularly threw lavish SM parties at which Michael was at the service of selected guests. And at some point Amos found out about it.<br/>
Michael's eyes lit up when he told how Amos had burst into one of these parties like a bull on the rampage.<br/>
"He took me home and fucked me through the mattress for hours. Romantic, isn't it? But back to Eric. You know, when you feel like I do, it's a disaster not to be able to give your master everything. Maybe you don't understand, but it's my duty to fulfil his needs. And since I couldn't do it myself, I had to find someone. Amos and Eric had met at an SM fair where they were both exhibiting their furniture and had the grandiose idea of joining forces. Eric came to dinner to discuss business. I noticed that the two of them liked each other. The next day I visited Eric and told him about my little problem. Together we hatched a plan. Well, it didn't quite work out the way we thought it would. Actually, Eric was only supposed to come over from time to time. But we got on so well that it didn't take a month for him to move in with us. We complement each other beautifully and I love Eric very much. Different from the way I love Amos."</p><p>My head was buzzing with so much information as we sat in the car again and drove to the club. Michael realised without words that I now had to think about all this.<br/>
After all, Michael was trained to recognise the needs of others.</p><p>Three leather-clad figures watched us unload the furniture.<br/>
"Someone might want to help," I whispered to Michael.<br/>
"Forget it. Fashion-doms. They won't lift a finger, it's beneath them.”<br/>
“Fashion-doms!” I laughed.<br/>
“That's what I call people who put on leather pants, look mean and think they are God's gift to the submissive world. The one on the left is called Claude, and I bet that's not his real name. He has a fat Scottish accent. In the middle is Mistress Dana. She's okay, but she can't give you a hand because she'll break a fingernail. And finally on the right, my absolute favourite, Master Asshole. Declared homophobe and  moron. I've forgotten his real name, but asshole fits the bill.”<br/>
“I must say, for a rightless slave who tells me not to judge, you sure sound blasphemous.”<br/>
“Thank you! And for someone who has no idea at all, you're holding your own pretty bravely.”<br/>
Our three spectators must have thought we were completely crazy, the way we laughed our heads off.</p><p> </p><p>Michael fascinated me. He didn't fit at all into the image I had of a slave.<br/>
He was so funny and smart, and even when carrying furniture I noticed his elegance.</p><p>Under the watchful eyes of the fashion doms, we carried all the stuff into the warehouse that was soon to become an SM club. As uninviting as the building looked from the outside, its interior was surprising. Wood and metal. Eric and Amos.<br/>
My eyes almost fell out of my head.<br/>
“Wow! Michael, look, there's a huge cage hanging from the ceiling."</p><p>“I know, Amos built it. Brutally uncomfortable, that thing. The worst two days of my life. Uncomfortable is bad enough, but this boredom is even worse. I wasn't even allowed to take a book inside.”</p><p>"You were in there for two days?"<br/>
"Amos and Eric would never sell anything that hadn't been extensively tested.”<br/>
"That makes perfect sense, but does it have to be that long?"<br/>
"No, I guess it doesn't, but it was my punishment."<br/>
"Your punishment for what?"<br/>
"I forgot to take out the rubbish. Stupid thing."<br/>
"Seriously? Amos put you in that cage for two days because you forgot to take out the trash?"<br/>
“Exactly." </p><p>Oh man. Creepy. </p><p>Better not delve into the subject.<br/>
Instead, I preferred to admire the counter, which was decorated with ornate carvings. All SM scenes, as a closer look revealed.<br/>
"That would be even nicer if there were a few gays . But no, only straight men! It was requested that way." said Michael, shaking his head disapprovingly.</p><p>"There are no dominant women either," a smoky voice sounded from behind us. Mistress Dana.<br/>
“This is clearly discrimination, Madame. You should not put up with it. I can tell Eric to change it.”<br/>
“Let it go, Michael. I'll get a big oil painting of a femdom scene. Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?”<br/>
"Oh, of course, I beg your pardon. Mistress Dana, this is Roger. Roger, Mistress Dana."<br/>
"Pleased to meet you!” Dana held out her well-manicured hand to me.<br/>
"Kiss her hand," Michael whispered to me.<br/>
I breathed a kiss on the offered hand.<br/>
"The pleasure is all mine, Mistress."<br/>
Dana smiled and sighed.<br/>
"He's really sweet, Michael. Let me guess. Gay?"<br/>
"You guessed right.”<br/>
"A shame. The pretty ones are always gay. Do you want a drink?”<br/>
Michael glanced quickly at his wristwatch.<br/>
"Oh, fucking hell! Roger, we have to go! What a bummer, I lost track of time. I should have been home five minutes ago."</p><p>On the way back, Michael was very quiet. He kept looking at his watch.<br/>
It was only when we pulled into the yard that I realised why.<br/>
"It's a rule, isn't it? You have to be home at a certain time."</p><p>"Yes, and I'm almost half an hour late. That's trouble.”<br/>
Holy shit. If Amos locked him in a cage for two days because he didn't take out the rubbish, what would he do if Michael was half an hour late?</p><p>At that moment the front door flew open. During yesterday's visit...God, it was really only yesterday...Amos had been a gentle giant. Now he was about as gentle as a hurricane.<br/>
About as easy as a nuclear war.<br/>
"Get your ass in here now, Michael! And fast."<br/>
"Yes, master,"<br/>
Amos held a large wooden ruler in his hand, and it didn't take a genius to guess what he was going to do with it.<br/>
Michael hated pain, and it was my fault that he was late.<br/>
We had stopped and gone for a walk while he told me his story.<br/>
I was really trying to understand all this stuff. Master and slave, rules, all that, but I couldn't let Michael be punished because of me.<br/>
Michael had already disappeared into the house when I climbed out of the van with somewhat shaky legs. Amos was still standing in the doorway and smiling kindly at me.  The wooden ruler tapped against his massive thigh.<br/>
“Hello, Roger. Thank you very much for your help. You can just leave the van there.  Eric will drive it into the garage later.”</p><p>“Please do not punish him. It's my fault, I had so many questions and Michael...”<br/>
"Do you have a gun?" Amos interrupted me.<br/>
"What? No."<br/>
"A knife, maybe?"<br/>
"No, I..." What the hell was that nonsense about?<br/>
"Look, Roger, I understand you have questions and I'm sure Michael can give you lots of answers. But Michael knows his rules, and unless you forced him at gunpoint, it's not your fault he's late.”<br/>
"I understand. But does it have to be the ruler? He hates pain so much, doesn't he?"<br/>
"That's why it's called punishment, Roger. This is between Michael and me. Thanks again for helping, and say hi to Nick for me.”<br/>
Nick. I had to see Nick. Talk to him about all this. </p><p>It was obvious that Amos would not listen to reason, so I retreated.<br/>
I was almost at my car when Amos caught up with me. I was quite startled. That such a big man could be so silent!<br/>
Amos pulled me to his broad chest and gave me a smacking kiss on the head.<br/>
"I like you, Roger Taylor, you've got balls.  I think Nick has found quite a gold piece here. Don't worry about Michael. It's just what he wants. Rules and consequences. Because what's the point of rules if there's no consequence for breaking them? “</p><p>All the way to Nick's I thought about this sentence in particular.<br/>
What's the point of rules if there's no consequence for breaking them?<br/>
Funny. That made perfect sense. </p><p>When I arrived at Nick's place, I found that John and Gela came to visit, which bothered me a little at first. There was so much I wanted to tell Nick.<br/>
But then it became such a fun evening that I was actually quite happy that it wasn't about SM for once.<br/>
Our bass player and his wife were amazed and delighted that Nick and I had become a couple, and we didn't hold back with endearments.<br/>
That was very nice. Uncomplicated.<br/>
No cages or wooden rulers.<br/>
Kissing, cuddling and hugs.<br/>
Normal things that normal lovers do. </p><p>That evening I was almost relieved to go home.<br/>
I slept like a log and felt completely refreshed for the first time in a while when I woke up.<br/>
It was still quite cold, but the sun was shining, so I decided to take advantage of the good weather and go for a run.<br/>
I did a total emergency stop as I turned the corner and almost fell.<br/>
There seemed to be some kind of people's assembly outside my door.<br/>
The most outstanding, literally, was Amos. Nick looked almost tiny next to him. Michael and John sat on the steps and discussed while Gela leaned against the wall and listened.<br/>
She saw me first.<br/>
"There he is!"<br/>
Nick smiled and my heart leapt.<br/>
It turned out that I had forgotten my mobile phone at Nick's. Since he couldn't reach me, Nick had asked John to drive him here.<br/>
Michael, meanwhile, who had been told by Amos to call me, was worried because I didn`t answer the phone.<br/>
So he, in turn, had asked Amos to drive him here.<br/>
Nick and the Taylors as well as Michael and the giant had brought breakfast, and so a little later we were all sitting in my kitchen.<br/>
It was obvious that Gela and John knew Amos and Michael, which was kind of weird.<br/>
Of course they knew about Nick, after all John was his best friend. I never questioned that the bass player and therefore his wife knew about the bedroom and probably a lot more that was connected to it.<br/>
But the fact that they seemed to know people from the scene more closely, and then these two in particular, surprised me a lot.<br/>
So I asked:<br/>
"How do you know each other?"<br/>
This question caused general laughter and I swear Amos blushed a little.<br/>
“You're going to find this funny for the rest of your lives, aren't you? It was a misunderstanding, how many times do I have to say it?” he growled.<br/>
"You know the big wrought-iron gate to the driveway of our house? Amos made it." John grinned.<br/>
Michael carefully folded his napkin and looked at Amos. The two seemed to be having a short conversation without words.<br/>
"May I tell?" he asked the Taylors.<br/>
“Of course, sweetheart.” Gela smiled.<br/>
“Wait, let me go first.” John grinned yet again. “We were looking for someone who could make us a new gate, because the old one was completely rusted. But there didn't seem to be anyone left in England who made them. When I told Nick about it, he gave me Amos' phone number. So I called him and he said he was sorry but he specialised in other things."</p><p>Other things, indeed. Cages and floor pillories, for example.<br/>
“I said that was very strange, because my best friend Nick had given me his number and assured me that he could make something like that,” John continued. “Whereupon Amos was as if changed and immediately invited us to dinner, asking us to bring photos of the old gate.”<br/>
"I have a vague guess as to what happened next," I sighed.<br/>
“I've said it a thousand times, it was a misunderstanding. How was I supposed to know that Nick's best friend and his wife didn't share what was so important to him? I don't know a single Master whose best friend is a Vanilla, man!" Amos shrugged. “You two have totally fooled me.”</p><p>"That's right,"  Michael nodded with a smile. "You didn't bat an eyelid and acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have a naked man serving you drinks and dinner."<br/>
“We really wanted that gate! And since we thought Amos was only making an exception for us because we belonged to his kind, we decided to go for it. Besides, my dear Michael, you really are a very pretty sight. It was nothing completely foreign to us, even if we only knew stories. Isn't that right, Nick?” Gela reached for the coffee pot, but Michael was quicker. He poured us all more coffee.<br/>
“You don`t have to do that.” I said.<br/>
“I want to.”<br/>
As Michael reached for a cloth to wipe away a jam stain, I stared at Nick, aghast.<br/>
That was crazy. Michael was behaving exactly as I had behaved in Nick's kitchen an eternity ago.<br/>
An eternity of not even three days.<br/>
"Put that down, Michael, you don't have to clean here.” Amos said.</p><p>That was ridiculous! How was that possible?<br/>
Nick smiled. His eyes were very, very green. As if he were wearing coloured contact lenses.<br/>
“So, my dears, we'll all go over to the living room and leave these two alone, shall we?” That was Michael. Michael, who had an incredible talent to sense other people`s needs.</p><p>I stood up, put my arms behind my back and clasped my right wrist with my left hand, holding Nick`s intense gaze.</p>
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